


Of Strange Brothers

by SunflowerSpectre



Series: Works of 2019 [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-08 23:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20985188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSpectre/pseuds/SunflowerSpectre
Summary: A series of scenes shot throughout the Mistletoe Strangers Series focusing on Alagarthas and Neronvain.





	Of Strange Brothers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KiwiToast](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=KiwiToast).

> This work is dedicated to KiwiToast

**Dungeons and Dragons**

**Original Character Commission**

**Summary:**

A series of scenes shot throughout the Mistletoe Strangers Series focusing on Alagarthesis and Neronvain.

**Requested Word Count: **2k - 5k

**Final Word Count: **2026

**Of Strange Brothers**

Neronvain’s heart is beating wildly against his chest to the beat of the music inside of the castle. He has successfully glided through the many patrons of the ball, blending in seamlessly into the crowd. His pace has been quick, but even and steady as to not draw too much attention to himself. He would have gotten too many looks if he had just darted away or ran, especially if he was seen running away from the mistletoe where (despite being masked) the very recognizable Desire had been. 

He glances around often, a paranoia creeping up his spine. With no sign of anyone, nevertheless Desire, he rests against the balcony banister. An odd sensation of disappointment rises his chest. He swallows it down; it is better for both of them if she does not find him, right?

He really should stop listening to that _ womanizing _ , _ romantic _ brother of his, but how was he supposed to say no? When he saw her standing there under the mistletoe, just waiting, the very image of beauty, for the first time in a long time, he had found himself acting before thinking. Which is _ new, _ and more than a bit _ dangerous. _

“Sooo how was it?” 

Algatheris’ cheeky voice rings, causing Neronvain to curse. He turns to see a grin stretching out across his brother’s face, akin to a cat that ate the canary. His eyes are twinkling with an aura of happiness and giddiness, a stark contrast the sense of doom that has been settling around Neronvain.

“How was _ what?” _

Algatheris tsk’, “Don’t get coy with me, you _ kissed _ her, so tell me, how was it? Was it romantic? Deep? _ French?” _

“It was a kiss,” Neronvain states simply, keeping his voice simple and to the point as he turns his back to his brother, “A kiss that I shouldn’t have let you _ sway _me to do.”

Algatheris sputter, “_ Sway? Me? _ If you recall _ dear brother, _ I did not say a _ single word _ about kissing her. I simply told you that she was _ there. _ The kiss is all _ your _ making.”

Neronvain opens his mouth, an argument on the tip of his tongue before he swallows his words. He closes his mouth and focuses on the starlight that drips through the sky. The temptation of screaming in frustration growing, he lets out a huff. 

Algatheris pats him on the back sharply, taking the breath from his lungs, but rubs it in a comforting manner. He leans over beside him, his hand now draping around Neronvain’s shoulders to bring him in close.

“Do you regret it,” Algatheris asks, his voice dropping its usual aloofness.

The somberness of his tone makes Neronvain pause. He looks to his brother, but Algatheris’ eyes are on the skyline with a wistful, knowing gleam to them. A smile graces Algatheris’ lips. Not the cheeky grin he gives when he knows he’s gotten away with something. It’s not the boastful grin of a man who won his trophy nor the teethy, flashy grin that he flashes to everyone who looks his way. It’s too somber. The grin you give when a grandmother holds your hand on her dying breath. It’s sincere, loving, but unsure of what’s going to happen next.

Neronvain is quiet for a moment. The silence covering them both as the music behind them begins to blur out of focus as their minds become preoccupied.

The kiss could have bad consequences. Neronvain can’t even begin to imagine what would happen if Desire finds out that it was him. She could get mad and even refuse to speak to him again. She could kick him out of their traveling party. She could steal his wallet out of revenge. Their kiss brings more cons than pros, yet...

He can still taste her on his lips. Her lips were a bit dry and he could tell exactly how much she had drank, but her lips were _ warm. _Warm enough to light a fire that he is still trying to dwindle. 

“No, no I don’t.”

Algatheris’ grin stretches as he pats Neronvain on the shoulder, “Then that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

Neronvain doesn’t answer him, wishing that it is as simply as that.

* * *

Theoretically, the idea of watching them from the windows should have also meant that he could hear them. He couldn’t. He watches as Desire drinks - _ and drinks and drinks - _ with his brother. The dusting of pink on her cheeks when a hand grazes hers at the first drink. The words that seem to flow easily from her lips as his brother nods and listens. It isn’t as if Desire never talked to him; at times, she talked too much. It isn’t as if she never listened to; there are maybe five times he remembered where she did. But this is different. He can _ feel _it.

Neronvain scrambles, a tad more ungracefully than any ‘prince’ should, away from the window as Desire quickly approaches the door. The idea of staying there, having her confront him, played only for a moment in his mind before his usual confidence falters just enough for him to make a dive for a hiding spot.

He watches as Desire leaves his brother’s abode, half drunk and dazed. She misses the step by the door and he twitches, almost going to help her, but why should he when Algatheris isn’t too far behind? When Algartheris is the one she goes to? When his brother is the one she spills all her concerns too? When apparently she’s _ oh so close _to his brother?

Neronvain waits until she is gone before he approaches the door himself. His hand hovers over the door, but stops before it hits the wood as the door swings open. Algatheris leans against the door frame, casually, with a grin stretching across his face and a gleam in his eyes. 

“You need to learn how to hide better if you don’t want her to see you,” Algatheris comments.

His never-faltering grin only causes Neronvain’s bitterness to grow. It makes Algatheris seem as if he knew something that Neronvain didn’t, as if he knows everything. The sour sensation in his mouth made it harder to admit what he wants to say. Neronvain crosses his arms against his chest and other than a small twitch beginning to form at the corner of his lips, his face remained stoic.

“Why would I worry about her seeing me?”

“You tell me, you’re the one hiding.”

Algatheris watches his brother closely, a more calculating look in his eye. He knows his brother waited outside for quite a while, but he isn’t sure about how much he could really hear.

Neronvain scowls deeply like a pouting child, “I was not hiding.”

“Ah yes, because we all hide within the bushes for fun,” Algatheris laughs, “If you want to make amends, you are more than welcome to come in for a drink….”

His laughter dwindles off as he leans forward with a wink, “...But if you want my opinion, you should stop hiding and go after her before someone else does.”

Neronvain looks closely for any signs of what his brother really means by that statement; what exactly is he _ implying? _Algatheris simply blinks innocently, as if he never implied anything at all, as he waits for a response. 

“I suppose I should make sure that she doesn’t get eaten on her way back to camp after all the drinks you gave her.”

There’s an accusing tone to his voice that Algatheris ignores, grinning, as he watches Neronvain finally depart after her. He can hear the way his brother continues to grumble under his breath, _ I was not hiding. _

* * *

It’s been too long since Algatheris has heard from his brother. He rereads the last letter he received, detailing a close call with an ambush on his party’s last trip. It doesn’t say much, other than it being too close for comfort and that it could have been prevented if he was paying attention. There’s a vague mention of Desire, something about her being _ stupid _ for almost getting killed. Something that, while worrying him, does make him smile. Neronvain has always had a strange way of showing he cared.

He hopes that rereading it will ease his fears, remind him that if Neronvain is well enough from that ‘close call’ to write a letter, then he is sure to be fine. He had already sent his best wishes, along with five feet of parchment reminding his brother to be careful. Maybe he never got a reply back, but it usually took a while for Neronvain to reply.

_ But it shouldn’t take this long. _

He wonders how bad Desire’s wounds are - if her almost getting killed meant something that _ could _ kill her later. He’s always liked her - she’s funny, makes interesting conversation, stirs up trouble, and makes his brother happy. She’s his _ friend. _

But she is much more than that to his brother. If something happened to her, if she passed due to her wounds, then he can imagine why Neronvain isn’t sending any letters. It would _ destroy _ his brother, as much as he would never admit it, if she got killed. He can’t even begin to imagine what his brother would do - well perhaps he could, but that thought process _ definitely _ doesn’t help his fears.

Months go by and each day, each _ hour, _he gets more worried. 

He gets a letter the day before he’s ready to head out himself to find his brother; his duties be damned if his brother needs him. He already had a bag half-packed sitting in his bedroom and maps thrown about his desk as he decided on a route that would take him close to where his brother’s letter was sent from. But all those maps are tossed aside when he gets a letter with his name neatly written in his brother’s handwriting across the top of the parchment. 

His heart is about to beat out of his chest, unsure of what he is about to read. He likes to think it will be good news - receiving this letter at all eases his worst fears. He takes a deep breath, not even bothering to sit down to read it. He carefully runs a thumb over the seal, noting the familiar wax seal of Desire’s horns. He swallows thickly, his stomach turning as he steadies his hands. 

The letter should be good news, yet this small detail. This little symbol of wax is making his stomach turn. Desire never really sends letters, not formally, and as such she doesn’t typically use her stamp (a stamp, he remembers, that Neronvain got for her). He vaguely recalls Neronvain being upset when he found out that it was shoved deep inside of her belongings, never to see the light of day unless she had to write formal letters - things like business, parties, and _ funerals _. Using her stamp, but knowing his brother’s handwriting, worries him more than hearing no response.

He hesitantly breaks the seal and scans over the letter carefully. The more he reads, the more his worries turn into happiness, his face breaking out into a grin. 

“Son of a bitch,” he whispers under his breath.

There are a few paragraphs at the end that are also in her writing, her swirling and unsteady letters contrasting against the strict, calligraphy hand of Neronvain. Unlike Neronvain, she writes more casually and some of her words are scratched out and their corrections written in smaller writing above it. There’s a few careful words chosen, cautious phrases that new lovers use, as if they don’t want to scare the other off. A few little notes that Desire wrote, added in little letters with arrows at Neronvain’s paragraphs. Desire even signs her name next to Neronvain’s. 

He has to say, they really did a hell of a job getting their message across. His heart swells in his chest, happiness blooming for his brother. 

“They finally did it.”


End file.
